26 comments:

"I think it was her strategy to make us talk about that instead of substantive problems she has. It's a distraction. She's deliberately laughing in a way designed to derail us from going in a direction that would hurt her. (So was the cleavage.)"

Suggest you start using smiley faces. Or what about "HA!HA!HA!" at the end? Then even Sullivan will understand.

Of course your loopy (and not in an intelligent, funny, "I Love Lucy" way or even a Suzanne Somers, "3's Company" fashion).

The following sentence recently came from Ann, who holds herself out as an arbitor of clear cogent writing: "As a young girl she was used to make money by adults who used her to express what they thought would amuse people to see a young girl express."

Did the South Carolinian Teen Beauty Queen help you write that sentence?

Suggest you start using smiley faces. Or what about "HA!HA!HA!" at the end? Then even Sullivan will understand.

Maybe a disclaimer appended to every post: "The preceding post may or may not have been intended to convey humor. I reserve the right to mock any reader who does not "get" the humor. I also reserve the right to define "get" with respect to the humor that may or may not exist in the preceding post. In addition, I reserve the right to reserve any and all other rights I determine to be necessary for the reserving of any and all other right."

Well, Jim, "jokes" just isn't really the right word for what I do. I'm playing with words and ideas and toying with you a lot of the time. The fact that you don't get it and Andrew doesn't get it... that's how I have my fun. As I said, I'm vicious. The fact that you and Andy can't understand where the daggers are is part of how I have my fun. I'm not here for the partisan and the ideologues. My core readers come from a different place. You can be here too, but you have to think and you have to look at things from different angles. It's not a normal political (or legal) blog. Something is happening here, but you don't know what it is.

There's something happening hereWhat it is ain't exactly clearThere's a man with a gun over thereTelling me I got to bewareI think it's time we stop, children, what's that soundEverybody look what's going down

There's battle lines being drawnNobody's right if everybody's wrongYoung people speaking their mindsGetting so much resistance from behindI think it's time we stop, hey, what's that soundEverybody look what's going down

What a field-day for the heatA thousand people in the streetSinging songs and carrying signsMostly say, hooray for our sideIt's time we stop, hey, what's that soundEverybody look what's going down

JimM47 said... Not a criticism, just a statement. You're allowed to write about whatever you want, and in whatever style. Just, some people don't get it.

Yeah, well, who the hell cares what you think. Look, I think this Althouse thing has fallen in the crapper and I only hang around for those few fleeting moments when it's almost like the early days. But that's a me problem, not an Althouse problem. Sometimes jokes are written and spoken for the sole benefit of the person telling the joke. Audience of one. Screw the bystanders. If you get it, great. If you don't, no problem, it wasn't meant for you. The only time there's a problem is when people act like an ass because they feel left out of a club they were never in.

Pete Townshend, Misunderstood (streaming audio)Just wanna be misunderstoodWanna be feared in my neighborhoodJust wanna be a moody manSay things that nobody can understand

I wanna be obscure and obliqueInscrutable and vagueSo hard to pin downI wanna leave open mouths when I speakWant people to cry when I put them down

I wanna be either old or youngDon't like where I've ended up or where I begunI always feel I must get things in the canI just can't handle it the way I am

Why am I so straight and simplePeople see through me like I'm made of glassWhy can't I deepen with graying templesAm I growing out of my class

I always feel I should be somewhere elseI feel impatient like a girl on the shelfThey say that I should live sera seraBut I am such an ordinary star

Saying sorryWould mean I've apologisedAnd you know I was good to you babyThere were very few liesNow that you ask meI'm no saint insideThe same things you feel little darlingI don't try to hideWhen I think about the laughterDirected at meI don't give a damn anymoreIf they don't see what I seeWe've got the right to loveWe've got the chanceTo make it workWe've got the right to loveYes we got the rightDon't put the blame on meI won't tell you no liesDon't put the blame on meGot no time for compromise

Trooper York and I missed an obvious opportunity to run off the tracks:

Stripes:Psycho: The name's Francis Soyer, but everybody calls me Psycho. Any of you guys call me Francis, and I'll kill you. Leon: Ooooooh. Psycho: You just made the list, buddy. Also, I don't like no one touching my stuff. So just keep your meathooks off. If I catch any of you guys in my stuff, I'll kill you. And I don't like nobody touching me. Any of you homos touch me, and I'll kill you. Sergeant Hulka: Lighten up, Francis.

Billy JoelShe cuts you once, she cuts you twiceBut still you believeThe wound is so fresh you can taste the bloodBut you don't have strength to leaveYou've been bought, you've been soldYou've been locked outside the doorBut you stand there pleadin',With your insides bleedin','Cause you deep down want some moreThen she says she wants forgivenessIt's such a clever masqueradeShe's so good with her stilettoYou don't even see the blade